


Warmth

by WarriorHeart



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: (Steve is there to give it to him), Alternate Timeline, Amnesia, Brainwashing, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Dissociation, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, M/M, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Pre-World War II Bucky Barnes/Steve Rogers, Recovery, Self-Harm, Torture, Winter Soldier Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:07:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25342954
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WarriorHeart/pseuds/WarriorHeart
Summary: The cryo-freeze chamber used to keep the Winter Soldier in line malfunctions, refusing to open when he is needed. He is left under high security while HYDRA tries everything to wake him up.Years later, Steve is on a routine mission to decommission yet another HYDRA base when he finds a room not on the blueprints.He finds something - someone - that was presumed a lost cause.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 10
Kudos: 66





	Warmth

**Author's Note:**

> I wouldn't be surprised if a concept like this has been used what with how long this fandom has been around but I hope you enjoy regardless!
> 
> Unbeta'd as all my works are so any mistakes you see are my own :)

He welcomes the cold, in a way.

It calms the itch in the back of his head, the one that gets worse the longer he's out. The more things he sees on the outside.

He fights the chair for a while, because it usually means they'll freeze him if he doesn't do what they want for long enough. He never shows emotion aside from resignation when they drag him into it, but inside he's smiling.

In the cold, in the empty, he doesn't have to worry. The ache of his wounds fades away. The screams of his victims fade from his ears, stop echoing in his head. It's a release, for the Asset, and despite knowing his handlers would take that from him the moment they learned he preferred it to dealing with them, to dealing with the chair and the attempts to fry his brain right out of head, he finds himself relaxing the moment he's strapped in.

HYDRA is going beneath the surface, and with most of their high-threat targets taken care of by the Asset, they put him back in the chamber. He knows it will probably be a while until they bring him back; unless something big happens, they put him in the chamber to preserve him. Keep him from letting the itch become more persistent, because the longer he's out the worse it gets. It's easier to put him in the chamber and leave him there.

Little does he know it's only about a month later that they attempt to bring him back, but the chamber does not let go.

Instead, the Asset dreams for the first time from the beginning of his development.

He dreams of a blue sky

_like blue eyes_

and laughter. He dreams of something sweet, of a stinging in his knuckles as he punches someone. He dreams of a hand in his, small and fragile, but he doesn't see the face of the boy he helps up.

He dreams of secret bases and being strapped to tables. He dreams of pain, lightning through his veins, his throat raw from his screams. He dreams of a murky night, of darkness with a spot of blue.

He dreams of golden fields of wheat

_like gold hair_

and the tightly packed city buildings. He dreams of peaceful nights with a book in hand and a head on his shoulder.

He dreams of weapons in his hands, of soldiers at his side

_of blue eyes and gold hair and a smile so bright it was blinding_

and those same soldiers suddenly at the other end of his barrel.

He dreams of a train on a cliff, of falling, and cold.

_someone screams his name and he screams back_

_what were they screaming?_

_they knew him_

_he knew him_

_who was he?_

_what was his name?_

As HYDRA evolves, as the world progresses, the Winter Soldier dreams.

-

Natasha is crouched at his side, softly reviewing the plan. Steve halfway filters out her words; the base is fairly low-priority, mostly a transfer point of supplies and men. A link in the supply chain, nothing more. 

They'd been hitting various bases for the past few months now. Occasionally, one of the other Avengers would join them, but for the most part Steve had only been working with Natasha and Clint since that day in New York. Stark was usually the one to volunteer, often to test out a new suit or program in a real-life scenario, which Steve didn't mind. The man was smart, he had to admit, despite the arrogance clouding him.

For a small base like this, though, the two of them would be enough. More than enough, really. They had backup, of course, but they rarely called in unless they truly got overwhelmed. They'd been observing the base the last few hours, watching guard rotations and the occasional truck entering or exiting. The building is situated in an abandoned compound, once a far larger base before being hit by an air raid. A fair deal of the base had been built underground, however, so the important stuff had survived.

Steve's heart clenches when a thought runs through his head: this was the exact sort of complex he and Bucky would have gone for with the Commandos. Far less covered in snow, of course, but small enough regardless that he knows they would have handled it on their own.

Bucky had been drifting in and out of his thoughts for a while, ever since he'd seen the museum exhibit on himself and seen that video of them together. A bit of digging had revealed no body had ever been found, but a memorial had still been created for the only Commando to die in service. He had visited it and had to leave not long after he'd arrived; the thought of Bucky on some frozen mountain, probably buried beneath tons of snow, his scream as he reached for Steve and the bar snapped...

"Steve. Hey, are you listening?"

He blinks, focusing back in. "Sorry. Drifted a bit there."

Nat bumps their shoulders; she knows better than most that he usually doesn't like to talk about these moments and that they're never typically a danger. "You ready?"

"Are you?" He shoots her a playful smile, getting another bump in answer before they head into the complex.

They split up, Nat entering through a halfway-crumbled entrance near the edge of the complex that still connected to the underground area. Steve continues on to the main building, keeping watch for anyone patrolling the grounds.

He feels oddly exposed like this; he has ever since Bucky's fall. Before, he'd known his best friend always had his back, would stop anyone before they could sneak up on him. Barton had provided a similar sense of safety when he joined them, finding a little nest for himself and keeping an eye on the area. But alone like this, a small part of his mind keeps telling him someone's right behind him.

He makes it to the building without trouble, taking down the guards outside quickly and quietly. The smaller bases never usually have too bad of a security as it's rare they ever hold any valuable HYDRA assets. If they do, the guards are usually focused around said asset rather than outside.

The first floor of the building is fairly empty, so Steve cautiously makes his way into the tunnels. An odd sense of nostalgia rolls over him; built back during the war, the building is something he's familiar with. The lighting, the faded materials of the walls and floor, the general neglect... It's different from the modern buildings.

He comes across a few groups, all dealt with quickly. He actually meets up with Nat earlier than expected, and she shares his slightly perplexed and wary look.

"It's quiet in here."

"I've come across two dozen men total," Steve murmured. "This place is big, but it's got a skeleton crew. There's gotta be something we're missing."

"The scan of the area only showed these tunnels."

"You know HYDRA has ways to hide places they don't want us knowing about."

"Yeah, well. How would we find it? Everything looks the same here." Nat frowned, crossing her arms, and they hear it at the same time.

The grind of something sliding on the floor.

They both fall silent, creeping down the hall towards the noise. They hear voices approaching, and two scientists turn the corner. They both freeze, eyes wide, and Steve wonders if it's because of who they are or the gun Natasha has aimed at them.

"We know there's a deeper area here," Steve said calmly, the grip on his shield tightening a bit. Before he can continue, one of them burst out.

"We don't even want to be here! HYDRA pulled us in. We've been here for two months." The man's face tightens. "Please. I- I have a little boy. They threatened to hurt him if we didn't do what they asked..."

Steve and Nat share a glance, and the redhead slowly lowers her gun, but keeps it in her hand, ready to fire at a moment's notice. "Show us where you came from. The hidden area."

The man hesitates, and his companion rests a hand on his shoulder, murmuring something in his ear. They share a nod, and the scientist motions for them to follow.

The room appears to be an old sleeping area; bed frames line the walls, stripped of mattresses. He sees a blanket crumpled on the ground near the corner, and his chest tightens slightly when he realizes it's covered in dry blood.

The scientists stop in front of one of the beds. Steve helps them move it, and one of the scientists pulls at a broken board. He reaches down, pressing something, and a beep sounds before the wall pulls apart.

Steve stands, dusting himself off and turning to Nat. "Stay with them."

She frowns, looking like she's about to protest, but nods after a moment. Steve adjusts his grip on his shield, taking a slow breath and descending the stairs into the darkness.

He can hear the hum of machines as he gets lower. The stairs below begin to become visible again, and he adjusts himself so his movements are as quiet as he can make them.

There are more men here. Quite a few scientists, more than he would have expected for a small base, but the amount of soldiers confirms in his mind that this facility is far more important than they had anticipated.

The soldiers aren't particularly hard to deal with. He leaves the scientists alone, and many of them rush for the stairs. He suspects most, if not all of them had been taken like the two above.

The question is why HYDRA would need so many scientists at a small place like this.

The information on the screens makes little sense to him at first. As he gets deeper into the room, he finds a monitor showing vital signs and frowns in confusion, looking at the screens nearby.

Something codenamed 'Winter Soldier' is being monitored. From what he can tell, it seems like the thing - person? - is in some sort of coma. Perhaps why they needed the scientists? An operation gone wrong?

He spots another door further down and makes his way over to it. It's cold inside, and his breath clouds in puffs the moment he enters. There's not much inside aside from something that looks like a coffin with machines hooked up to it.

Steve approaches slowly. A small panel gives a view into the chamber, and it's too dark for him to really see inside. He grabs a small flashlight he'd taken to carrying with him after getting stuck in plenty of dark places, carefully shining it against the window.

It's murky inside, and it takes him a moment to realize the chamber is filled with ice. He spots a figure inside, but before he can make out any features, the door to the chamber cracks open with a hiss.

Steve retreats back, gripping his shield. The room warms quickly, and the ice - only a layer on the chamber, it seemed - cracks and falls to the ground. The person inside is strapped down, dressed in tactical gear. Steve blinks in surprise to see one of his arms is metal, and upon realizing the man probably won't be waking up soon he moves closer.

The man's hair is down to his shoulders and covering his face. Steve reaches out carefully, brushing it away.

There's a clatter as his shield falls to the ground, nearly drowning out his whisper.

"Bucky."

-

"He's been sitting there for two days," Clint murmurs, and Nat gives him a look.

"Wouldn't you, if you found out your best friend you thought was dead suddenly basically fell back into your hands?"

Clint sighs softly, crossing his arms. It had been three days since the two had returned with the man. Understandably, Steve had been reluctant to let SHIELD have control of the situation, given it was his closest friend. So they'd taken Bucky to Stark Tower, and upon being told the situation, Tony had simply sighed and given Jarvis an order to clear a floor for them.

Bruce had been called in, but after an examination, he'd explained to Steve that the only thing they needed was time. The chamber had taken care of ensuring all Bucky had to do was return to consciousness without outside help. So for the next two days, the blond had been sitting by Bucky's side, reading occasionally and pausing every few hours to talk to the soldier.

"We have a different problem," Natasha said quietly. "The scientists referred to him as the Winter Soldier."

Clint blinked, turning to her. "Are you serious?"

"Yeah. The HYDRA assassin who took out a lot of people after the Second World War." Natasha crossed her arms. "Even if he's been under... You don't just get conditioning like that and wake up how you were. Steve needs to understand that."

Clint rested a hand on her shoulder. Her eyes had gone distant, but the touch brought her back. "We'll keep him safe," he said quietly. Then corrected, "We'll keep both of them safe."

Natasha hesitates, then nods firmly, and they turn back to watching Steve.

-

His dreams slowly fade away, and he realizes with a sense of disappointment he's waking up. He actually felt... _peaceful_ while dreaming.

The first thing that alerts him to something wrong is the softness of the bed. He's on a mattress, not just on a hard metal table while he woke up. He feels a sheet on top of him, and most of his gear is off.

The second is how quiet it is. There's no beeping or whirring of machines. He's not strapped down. His arm feels fine, which is... well, it varied how often he woke with them working at it or leaving it alone.

He's careful to keep himself physically still, giving no indication he's awake. It would be stupid to give that alert, especially when his mind is still foggy. Does he have new handlers? Probably. They're trying the 'nice' approach before his training.

He hears someone breathing slowly nearby. They sound asleep, and he realizes the bed is dipped a bit. Were they sleeping on it?

Reluctantly, he opens his eyes, turning his head slowly. Blond hair is resting on the edge of the bed, an arm tucked under. The man seemed to have been leaning on the bed, probably studying him before falling asleep.

He takes in the rest of the room. Fairly plain, but they made the mistake of putting him in a room with a window. There's one that shows outside; the sky and nothing else, which makes him wonder how high the building is. Another is on the opposite wall, showing another room. Probably a viewing area.

Aside from the man at his side, no one else is in the room. Not his, nor the one he can see into. The Asset sits up slowly. There's nothing hooked up to him, either. He's... been left alone, to wake up on his own.

The movement rouses the blond man, and he sits up, rubbing at his face. "Nat, I said I'm..." He trails off as his eyes open, landing on the Asset. A look of shock passes his face, but then a smile stretches across his lips.

"Bucky."

The word triggers the itch in the back of his mind. So does the hair and the eyes, and the Asset frowns, feeling as if he knows this man.

"Who's Bucky?"

His mouth snaps shut. Questions were usually punished. The blond's smile fades. "What...?"

He dares another question. "Where am I?"

"Um... New York City... Bucky, do you remember me?"

The Asset levels the man with a stare. And in the back of his mind, the itch supplies an image.

_skinny frail puffing up his chest to look bigger coughing asthma illness young weak determined_

When he comes back to himself, he's on the floor in the corner. The blond is on his feet, alarm in his eyes. "Bucky?"

The door opens and two people enter. A red-haired woman and another blond, though he has a quiver at his back. The woman holds a hand out in front of the first blond man. "Steve, wait."

The blond - Steve 

_steve steve blinding smile steve small steve dumbass stupid jerk taking all the stupid with you_

\- hesitates. "What's happening to him?"

"He's been frozen for a few decades," the archer states. "And HYDRA more likely than not brainwashed him. We need to take it slow, Steve."

The Asset

_bucky_

glares between the three of them. None of them seemed like handlers. Perhaps the woman might be, she had an air of authority around her, but a handler wouldn't slip up and use names. A handler wouldn't hold someone back from being rough with him.

_a handler would join in on the fun_

He shakes his head with a scowl. There were handlers he preferred and handlers he disliked more, but that wasn't the point. The woman gives Steve a pointed look before carefully approaching him, crouching a few feet away. She speaks in Russian, and the Asset finds himself relaxing.

"My name is Natasha Romanoff. We found you in a mostly abandoned HYDRA facility. Do you remember anything?"

The Asset frowns softly. Is that her way of asking for a mission report?

"My training has not gone to waste. Test me if you wish."

Natasha took a slow breath. "Stand down, Soldier. That is not your purpose here."

His frown deepened. "That is my only purpose."

"What is your name?"

"Asset. Soldier."

"Anything else?"

"That is what they call me."

Natasha spoke carefully. Behind her, the two blond men were speaking softly. The archer gently urges Steve out of the room. "Does the name James Barnes mean anything to you?"

The itch gets stronger, but he shakes his head.

"What about Steve Rogers?"

_blue eyes blond hair bright smile small steve. Walking the streets of some city with an arm over his shoulder or a tissue pressed to his nose because the punk couldn't resist a fight. Rubbing a frail back as coughs wracked his body-_

The Asset inhales sharply, and Natasha smiles slowly. "You remember Steve."

"I shouldn't."

"You are not an Asset anymore, Barnes. You're human. You're like us."

He narrows his eyes. No one had used this technique before, but he's seen worse. Natasha reaches out slowly, setting a hand on his knee. "There is no mission. No orders. No one to take out. You get to choose, Barnes."

The moment her hand touches him, his own darts out, gripping her wrist. She does not struggle, does not fight back, simply levels him with an even gaze. Her words fly around his head, but none of them make sense.

"What is my mission?"

"Your mission," Natasha says slowly, "is to stay put. Preferably, give us information on if there were others like you. Things like that."

The Asset nods to himself slightly. Okay. New handlers. They wanted to know about his previous ones. Wanted to know if they could get more like him. Natasha tugs slightly, and he lets her go. She stands, offering him a hand, but he stands on his own. She scans him up and down. "Are you fit to move on your own?"

He nods curtly, and she leads him to the door. The archer is in the next room, watching warily, but he opens the door for them. He and Natasha share a look, and when she leads the way out, he follows behind the Asset.

He takes in his new surroundings silently. He'd made the mistake to not look out the window of his room, but the floor-to-ceiling windows spanning the entire wall of the room they enter gives him quite a view.

They're high up, higher than most of the buildings he can see. He steps towards the window, then pauses, but Natasha nods for him to continue, so he moves until he is a few inches from the glass.

The streets below are crowded with people and cars, more sleek and shiny and bright than the ones he was used to. The view is clear, which is a bit different from what he remembers of cities. It seems to be sometime in summer, from the outfits people are wearing. There's a park nearby that he can see, but something else is quick to steal his attention.

A flash of red and gold zooms across his vision, and the Asset steps back, a hand reaching for weapons that aren't there. He notices the large balcony, a floor below them, and watches in confusion as a suit of metal lands. The pieces pull apart, and a man steps from the suit, greeting someone else while running a hand through his hair to smooth it back. His gaze darts up, and the Asset knows he spots him.

He moves back, feeling his heart start to pound faster. None of this is familiar. Everything looks... advanced. He turns to Natasha, noticing Steve has returned, standing near a stairway.

"This isn't New York City."

Natasha inhaled softly, and the archer rubs the back of his neck. "Who wants to tell him?"

-

The Asset _bucky_ sits silently on his bed, mulling over the last few hours since his awakening.

From what he's been told, the chamber malfunctioned and he was kept in stasis far longer than ever anticipated. The group had a doctor, a man named Bruce Banner, who had asked to do an examination now that he was awake, but had reported no side effects of the extended freeze, much to everyone's relief.

(He'd found himself glancing at Steve. He seemed the happiest of all.)

He's now in the year 2012, in New York City. In a building called Stark Tower, named after the man in the suit.

He'd learned a few more names, too. The archer was Clint Barton, the suit-man was Tony Stark. They'd also mentioned something called SHIELD, and that he would eventually have to speak with Nick Fury, its director.

For today, they hadn't asked him much about HYDRA, more about what he remembered. He'd given them fairly short and to-the-point answers, keeping the full extent of his knowledge hidden.

Especially where it concerned Steve Rogers.

It was flashes more than anything, but the man was familiar. They had explained that Steve and the Absuscekty were friends before his conditioning, before the war. Steve had explained later, when they were alone, that some of his memories were probably confusing. He had explained the serum that had turned him into a super soldier, the same serum they suspected had been used on him to turn him into the Winter Soldier.

After a while, the group had scattered to their own floors. He had been informed he was currently sharing a floor with Steve, and that until they were sure he wouldn't try to attack them or escape, he would be under watch.

His gaze drifted to the window. The city was nearly as bright at night as during the day. It was strange to him. He was used to maybe a few street lamps, perhaps a neon sign at a bar or some store, but nothing like this.

He found himself wandering from his room into the living room. Steve had introduced him to a lot of the technology in the room, including the television, a Stark Pad, and a laptop. His attention shifted to the bookshelves along one wall, and he made his way over to it, eyes adjusting to the low light of the room.

He finds he recognizes a few of the titles, and after a few moments he pulls one out, tracing a thumb over the cover. It's well-worn, but taken care of lovingly. He opens it as he returns to his room, inhaling slowly at the scent of ink and paper. He can replace it before Steve wakes up in the morning, but he knows he will not be able to rest. His mind is roaring, still working through what he had been told. Part of him is... grateful, he thinks the word must be. Grateful that they told him right away, didn't treat him like something that could shatter too quickly by being overloaded. He is also grateful - yet wary - of the freedom they give him.

He settles on his bed, turning on the lamp at the bedside table, and is lost to the words on the pages before him.

-

Steve is up early, earlier than he usually is. Despite his strong urge to check on Bucky, he makes himself go to the kitchen and pour himself a cup of coffee. He makes himself down half of it before moving back to the living room.

Bucky's door is shut, but he knows that doesn't specifically mean Bucky is asleep. He sighs to himself, going to his bookshelf to find something to distract himself with until the brunette decides to exit his room. He knows Bucky is still in there; Jarvis would have told him the moment Bucky tried to go anywhere.

He pauses when he notices a gap on the shelf, and his heart clenches when he identifies the book missing. Bucky used to read it often; it was his way of distracting himself on sleepless nights when Steve was having constant asthma attacks. The brunette's voice reaches his ears, though he knows it's a memory; Bucky would read to him on those painful nights, when they could do nothing more but sit there, Bucky rubbing his back and reading to him until his chest eased and he could breathe properly.

And despite himself, he smiles, because he knows that inside the cold, calculating Winter Soldier, Bucky is still there.

He picks another book, going back to fill up his cup before settling on the couch to start reading. He hears movement in Bucky's room after a while, a definite _thump_ not long after, and slowly, he closes his book and sets it next to his empty mug.

Jarvis' voice speaks up, quiet. "Mr. Barnes appears to have fallen from his bed, sir."

Steve stands and moves down the hall, halfway surprised to find Bucky didn't lock his door. Inside, it's as Jarvis commented; the sheets are all messed up, pulled to one side where they're tangled around a vaguely human shape on the floor. 

(He spots the book on Bucky's nightstand. He'd torn a small corner off a notepad left on the desk to use as a bookmark, just like he'd tear off corners of newspapers or school reports.)

Bucky is stirring, weakly fighting against the sheets, and Steve moves over, carefully pulling them off of the brunette. He's awake in an instant, and Steve has less than a heartbeat to move back, avoiding Bucky's attempted grab for his neck.

Bucky's eyes are wild, pupils narrow and unfocused. He's panting softly, and Steve notes the sweat soaking through his white undershirt. Strands of his hair stick to his face and neck, and it takes the brunette a few moments to recognize him and sit back. He doesn't apologize, but he bows his head as he catches his breath, comes back to himself.

Steve clears his throat awkwardly. "Jarvis said you fell."

Bucky's gaze rises to meet his again, and then he looks at the bed. "It's too soft."

In hindsight, it makes sense. He doubts HYDRA was exactly letting him live in luxury, and even before that, in the army, hell, even back home, the cots were squeaky and rough - and that was when they were even sleeping _on_ cots. With the Commandos, they'd gotten used to sleeping just about anywhere.

"It took me a while to get used to it, too," Steve said quietly. "The softness. The quiet. I play some music from my phone before I go to sleep. After the army... I just can't sleep in silence. I've slept on the floor a lot, too. But... You get used to it, in a sense. It's never.... It never feels the same as it did, before. But it's close. Enough to make it feel... normal."

Bucky's jaw is twitching, and his thumbs are twiddling in his lap. Steve stands, then offers him a hand. "C'mon. I'll make some breakfast, then we can hit the gym or something. I know Stark wants to look at your arm, but he can wait."

Bucky studies his hand for a while, and Steve thinks he's going to stand on his own, but- he takes it. The metal of his arm is... warm, surprisingly, and Bucky grips his hand tightly as Steve hoists him to his feet. He doesn't let go right away, staring down at their linked hands.

"Buck?"

"You said something," the brunette murmurs, tilting his head slightly. "That last night. Before... Something. 'Taking all the stupid with you.'"

Steve blinks before a smile blooms across his face. "Yeah. It was your last night before being shipped off to basic training. You told me not to do anything-"

"-stupid until I got back," Bucky whispered, finally meeting his gaze. The silence is broken by the brunette's next blunt word.

"Punk."

Steve finds himself laughing, and he hopes he doesn't imagine the small quirk to Bucky's lips.

-

Bucky is reluctant to let Stark work on his arm. He explains quietly to Steve one night that HYDRA would use it as another form of punishment; the arm is still connected to what they salvaged of his bone and nerves, so he can still feel through it, in a manner of speaking. Steve, in turn, relays this to Tony (without the details, just that Bucky was sensitive about the arm) and the engineer had backed off for the time being.

Bucky finds he likes the gym, though. It's very modern, with a lot more equipment than he knows what to do with at first. Steve explains most of it, and he helps Bucky get used to Jarvis and setting up specific exercises for himself. He's surprised to find it's not just the gym; there's a pool, an archery range (they find Clint there on several occasions, and the blond always greets them with a wave. Bucky doesn't miss the perfect shots in several targets at very long distances.) and rooms dedicated for sparring or testing new equipment, like Tony's suits or new adjustments to Steve's armor.

He can see the amusement in Steve's eyes when he asks if they can spar. The blond says not today, but Bucky takes it as a challenge. He knows Steve will give in eventually.

Aside from that, Stark has several forms of entertainment at the ready. Tony and Clint are the ones to introduce Bucky to video games, and the next week Steve comes back from the gym to find him wholly absorbed in a fairly peaceful game, all things considered. When asked, Bucky mentions Clint had introduced him to the first person shooter games, but those tended to bring back what Tony was beginning to refer to as 'Winter,' so those had been set aside.

'Winter' refers to the still-programmed parts of him that surface on and off. It's still a bit of a struggle, because almost anything can set him off - a wrong word, walking into the kitchen when Steve's cutting up some meat for dinner and seeing a bit of blood, getting too worked up in the gym. For the most part, Bucky can find his way back to himself; if he's alone, Jarvis will put the room under lockdown until he's back, but usually someone else is there to talk him down and help him focus. Steve is the best at it; they've discovered several phrases that reach out to Bucky, but sometimes it's as simple as Steve grabbing his shoulders and pulling him into a hug.

So far, Winter hasn't decided to hurt anyone, but Bucky still finds himself worrying.

It takes a few weeks after his first meeting with Fury for SHIELD to give the go-ahead that Bucky can leave the Tower, though preferably with someone with him. Steve takes the opportunity to take him to the park, and they go on a run together that ends in a playful race. They're both panting softly when they finally take a break, and though Bucky's legs ache slightly, it's a good ache, unlike what usually persisted during his training.

The nightmares are another side of it.

Bucky can't get through a full night of sleep without some memory tormenting him. The fall from the train reappears a lot, as well as his countless sessions in the chair, feeling himself slipping away and Winter taking over more and more of his mind, his body. The worst ones, though, are the ones about Steve.

It varies what he looks like, either pre- or post-serum, but it's always Steve. Usually beat up, with a knife to his neck or a gun to his head and someone ordering Bucky to finish it. Sometimes there are tears and begging, but sometimes Steve glares at him, eyes cold, and three words come to haunt Bucky, echoing in his ears when he wakes:

_I hate you._

He never screams, just wakes up suddenly. Sometimes he finds himself on the floor; Jarvis always asks quietly if he requires anything. Bucky either doesn't reply or tells him no, going to take a shower to wash the sweat away. When he returns, there's often a glass of water on his bedside table, and while he never outright confronts the AI about it, he knows it's Jarvis.

He still drinks it anyways. Sometimes he downs the whole thing in one go, other nights he has the restraint to sip at it slowly as his thoughts gather.

He doesn't tell Steve, not at first. A part of him is whispering that he's already a burden, and the blond looks so tired on a daily basis that Bucky doesn't want to steal his sleep as well. But one night, returning to his room after a shower, he finds Steve sitting on his bed. He's tossed the covers in the corner, to be picked up by one of Tony's staff the next morning for laundry. The blond looks up as he enters, but Bucky doesn't meet his gaze, toweling his hair dry. He'd gotten into the habit long ago to at least put pants on after bathing, in part because of the army but later because of the fact his handlers would use any excuse to mess with him.

He tosses his still-damp shirt on the pile of sheets as well, followed by his towel a few moments later. He grabs a hair tie from his nightstand, ignoring the knots he can feel in his hair as he pulls it back and ties it away from his face. Finally, reluctantly, he sits next to Steve. Neither of them speak for a while.

"Jarvis said this is a nightly thing."

Bucky nods numbly, fidgeting. His hands can't stop moving, a habit he'd had since he was young. Steve places his own over them, and Bucky looks away again.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

There it is: the question he knew was coming yet was still unprepared for. He can't find it in himself to look at Steve, at the blue eyes he knows will be filled with hurt and worry. The warmth of Steve's hand on his is already nearly unbearable.

Steve doesn't push, but he doesn't leave. Eventually, he flops on his back, taking Bucky with him, and they just lay there, side-by-side for a while. Steve's hand never leaves his.

Finally, Bucky speaks up softly. "I don't know... if I can ever really be Bucky again, Steve. There's always going to be... that _thing_ inside my head. The others have noticed it. How some stuff has me reaching for a weapon or closing myself off." He closes his eyes. "They... Did things to me. Things that can't be undone."

"I know," Steve whispers. Bucky opens his eyes and turns his head, but Steve is looking at the ceiling. "It's like... Trying to act like you're fine, that you can get through it, but some days everything crashes and you just... _can't."_

"That's every day for me, right now," Bucky murmurs, and Steve turns his head, studying him for a while. Bucky doesn't speak again, just taking in the details of Steve's face. He looks similar to how he was before, just more filled-out and with haunted eyes. In this lighting, he's not Captain America; he's Steve Rogers, a tired man trying to fight through every day with a smile, with confidence that the next day will be easier.

Bucky shifts, tucking himself against Steve. The blond's arm comes up, settling on his waist in a comforting, protective manner, and Bucky closes his eyes, unable to recall the last time he truly felt warmth like this.

They stay like that for a long time, no words spoken yet somehow everything understood.

**Author's Note:**

> First time writing for Marvel and in a fic that actually ends off where you can see it as platonic or romantic. It's an odd feeling.
> 
> (Almost as odd as the sudden motivation I have to write again.)
> 
> Anyways, hope you enjoyed!


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